Of Gods and Mosters
by xxBlueButterflyHottixx
Summary: Even though she had never intended to inherit a multi-million drug company, and it's problems, she couldn't deny; there was some most definitely a silver lining. And his name was Dylan Massett. Her partner in crime as she struggles to navigate the complicated underworld of White Pine Bay. Dylan/OC


**_Dylan Bates deserves love. All the love. So I had to write this and give him some. This takes place around the start of Season One, and will follow the Bates Motel story line, and include the characters, but will also have a lot of OC in it._**

_Somethin' that we'd die for, it's our curse  
Don't cry about it, don't cry about it  
We don't stick together 'cause we put our love first  
Don't cry about him, don't cry about him  
It's all gonna happen_

I stood and watched, with a feeling of what I could only describe as fear, in my stomach as they lowered the ivory casket into the ground and the funeral started to come to a close. It was weird they were about to bury something so pretty, so pristine, in the dirt. That thing looked like it had costed a fortune.

Leave it to him to go out in something, well, like that.

It was weird that I was thinking about the casket and not about my dead father that lie inside of it. I had kind of been trying to think about anything but him inside of the velvet lined casket, trying not to wonder if they we're able to close his skull at all, or if it was still laying open.

That's why there had been no open casket. They'd blown his brains out so severely, that the funeral home hadn't been able to do shit about it. At least with my mom they had been able to fix her up a little bit.

Again, for like the thousandth time that day, it hit me that I was officially an orphan. Yes, I had the rest of my family, but both of my parents were really gone. I had become a bastard in within a year period.

I feel a hand on my forearm and look over at the grandmother I barley know. It's more than awkward for me and I wonder if she even has a clue. I barley know her.

I mean I'd met her here and there throughout my life, but I seriously couldn't tell you shit about the lady except that she

1. Was the shortest woman I'd ever met, and yet still had the loudest voice.

2. Had a wrath that was known to all mankind (or at least most of the residents of White Pine bay), and

3. Would be rich as fuck if she didn't gamble away her life,

4. was so overly touchy feely that it made me want to hide every time I came near her.

Like now. She'd gone from my fore arm to holding, not one, but both of my hands in her glove covered own. I knew I should have brought my own pair.

Everything but my hands are numb from the cold as the pastor's sermon comes to the final(of what had felt like a thousand) close and the party stands. It's a blur of black, everyone dressed so intensely in the color that my eyes couldn't focus on any one point.

So I just followed, followed the crowd of my fathers family and friends, as they made a line, and passed by the now submerged casket. It was colder then shit, so I picked up a considerably smaller handful of the dirt and toss it down onto the coffin, trying not to focus on the way the almost black dirt contrasted with the pearly white of the death box.

I can't tear my eyes away from it.

I'm pulled away by my still held hands.

Everyone always complained about how "horrible" funerals were.

Fuck that, it was the services afterwards that were why people dreaded these things.

Full of weeping, drinking family that you hadn't seen in years that just kept touching you. And telling you stories about childhoods that never seemed to end. And you had to take it all. With a smile.

Because honestly, didn't everyone see how ridiculous they looked?

Crying and over dramatically mourning. Snot and spit everywhere.

If I hadn't just experienced this last year, I'd probably be freaking out.

Actually, I'm still kind of freaking out, so I make a move to break away from the group of distant family I had been chatting, halfheartedly, with.

"I have to use the restroom. It's up there right?" I intercept at a quietish point.

"Yeah, baby, right down those stairs" one of my "cousins" instructs and I thank her brightly, making sure to throw her a bright smile.

Brighter then sunshine.

The house packed, way fuller then I'd expected and I dodge as many condolences' as I can.

I legitly run from my aunt when I see her. I hadn't know many of my dads family members, but I knew my aunt Tawny. And I couldn't stand her. Either could my mom. Well she used to not be able to stand her.

So I evade her at all means possible, cursing as I nearly trip over my shoes, and ending up in the back yard.

I pull my coat tighter around myself and inspect the backyard, which feels, like, a thousand times better than the inside of that house.

I can breathe again. Take a full, deep breath.

And I decide I'd hide out back here until called back in. Even if it was like negative seven degrees out here.

The kids seem to think so too because they're all playing on the swing set, running and twirling around as if it isn't still winter. A couple of them had even taken their coats off. Crazy asses.

Lucky asses.

I'd love to have that mentality again. To be that light.

I'd also love to go home. But I had promised myself, and my uncle, mostly my uncle, that I'd spend at least an hour here.

God forbid I break my dear old grandmas heart.

I pull out my phone and do an almost routine check of my social websites. I'm halfway through Instagram when a smooth, deep voice breaks the cycle.

"Aren't you cold out here?" The source is not who I had been expecting, though I'm not at all surprised to see him.

It was his best friends funeral service after all.

I knew even my grandmas harsh death threats and forbiddance of anything "business" related wouldn't keep him away. It'd never kept him away before.

"Hi Aaron" I'd known the dude since I was born. He'd actually been around just a bit more then my dad. Dropping in to give me the occasional birthday present. Checking on my mom. He'd come to her funeral too. "I can deal" I add about the cold, shrugging.

Better out here than in there I ring in my head.

"I know what you mean" and I had a feeling he really did "how you holding up, baby girl?"

The way he asked it wasn't intrusive. But it still slipped right passed me.

"I'm good" He gives me a strong look to go on as he sparked up a cigarette "Tired, you know, but good" I give him. Tired could mean anything. Tired was always my plan B, when 'fine' just wouldn't cut it.

"You?" Plan C. If you're tired of talking about yourself, talk about the other person.

He exhales before he answers "Just goin' on you know. You've gotta keep going on" He stops, but he doesn't. Or at least I can tell he doesn't want to.

I give him the look now. "Yeah…I get that"

He puffs a few more times, and I can tell he's struggling for some resolve.

Seeing the tall, slightly graying, usually composed lawyer like this was new. And slightly unnerving.

I feel like asking for a drag of his Marlboro to calm my ever increasingly panicky nerves.

"You know, You're dad always talked about how…unyielding you are" I don't even try to cover the incredulous look on my face. I didn't really think my dad had ever talked about me, the daughter from the previous marriage, at all.

"How strong you are. How you could take things that nigga's twice your age couldn't handle. How he was like, freaked out , at you're house, when you're mom died, because you weren't crying. You were just sitting there, talking to the coroners, like it wasn't fucking shit"

How to process this? I didn't know so I kind of like stored it away. I'd find a way to deal with it later.

"He trusted you for that"

Now I was back to just being confused.

"Did he now?" For what? Why?

And why should I give a fuck?

Aaron chuckles and flicks the ash and is about to start up again when a few of the kids run past, completely oblivious to the fact that they were interrupting some serious grown up shit.

The pole of a man just lets the kids pass, and then begins walking forward, shooting me a backwards look to follow.

So I do, and we take the back yard in strides, until we hit the border of the woods, where lawn becomes thick shrubbery and evergreens.

I'm half grateful half kind of shocked when he offers me one of his cigarettes. He juts the box in my direction and I give it a second look.

"You're not a kid anymore" The way he says it is kind of too intense for him just to be talking about his offering me a cig.

And deep down, I know it's not.

The flames of dread in my gut are flamed.

"Nope. I'm actually legal now" I take a not so smooth drag and try not cough and look like a total asshole.

"You are. Which means you have some responsibilities now, Kay. Especially now" I nod as though I understand , just so he can keep going "You we're your mom's next of kin, so you know what I mean; finances, debt, her property"

Yup. I was still getting calls from her collector. And she'd been ashes for over a year.

But it wouldn't be me who would do this for my dad…surley Nia would be in charge of all of this shit.

Surley . Hell would have to freeze over for her to not be in charge.

I think I take too long in my head.

"Look, Kaleigh, I'm just going to outrightedly tell you this, for one, you're not stupid and for two we don't really have the time to sit and talk about this shit for hours. You know what you're dad did for a living"

Ahh, the weed. The crops.

The crops that were, no doubt, the reason that he was dead. The reason someone had blew a hole in his head. My grandmother had told the family, just a few hours ago; before the funeral, that she was going to burn the whole thing down, fuck it if she took the entire forest with it.

I just wished to be there when it happened. Forest hotbox.

"He was a drug dealer. So what?"

"Nah, your dad was more than a drug dealer. He was a business man. Weed just happened to be his business. He was a president, a CEO, of the company that makes this whole town run 'round"

I had always known, partly due to my parents slipping hints, and partly because I wasn't a dumbass, that this town didn't make it's money off of 'Avalon's Burgers' and 'Sunnyside Car Wash'.

I'd also known that my dad had been tied into it. Exactly how, I had never really gave a fuck to learn.

I mean yeah, of course I kind of wondered. From the fat child support checks I received every month, to the slip of my uncles mouth about my dad's 'bomb ass weed' that he'd grown himself.

But to hear it all being justified was like outer wordly.

My perspective was changing too fast, my brain refused to focus.

"Like the head boss man? Like a mob?"

He snorts and I feel dumb. And my confusion edges and turns to annoyance. Maybe anger.

"More like a land owner. But I guess you could think of it that way. He owns sixty three acers of land, out, about, eight miles past Ceder Point. It's deep in the woods. Not easy to get to, and there's over two million in crops"

I'm in near shock. Two million. Fucking _over _two million. In that land that I had thought he was so stupid to buy. He'd only told me he'd bought fifteen acers; because of the fishing.

And he was out there growing a multimillion weed farm?

The selfish part of my head bitterly wonders if I'll ever get to see any of that money.

I was his first born.

"And he left it to you"

Near shock is gone.

I'm totally fucking shocked still. It feels like I'd just been submerged in icewater, pushed without warning into a frozen pool.

"You're fucking lying"

"I'm not. He left you fifty percent of everything; the plants. The land. The money. He left your brothers the rest, but until they're eighteen, they can't touch it. So as of, well, last week, you own your dad's share"

Oh fuck no.

I drop the cigarette, that had run to almost the end, and my fist balls.

I cant run a business. I can't fucking be a mob lord/land owner.

I'd wanted some of what ever was going to come out of this whole weed thing(I'd been hoping to just get to keep mad weed and get some money), but all of it?

"Why? What about Nia? She should be in charge of this. How are you even fucking sure about any of this?"

I hoped he had fucked up. Made a mistake.

"He left it in his will, in this business, a will is always fucking made. You're his oldest, you got the most" Aaron never made mistakes.

"Oh my fucking god" Shifting away, I turn to look at anything but Aaron. Not able to bear to see his serious eyes. He was fucking serious about this.

The kids are still running in dizzying circles. Im holding my jaw and trying to wrap my head around what I had just been signed in to.

The secret drug ring that fuled White Pine Bay had always just been a cool fantasy in my head.

And now, I owned it.

-Chapter Playlist

Houses- Great Northern

Master of None- Beach House

Celistica- Crystal Castles

**This was mostly just a start up chapter, so yeah. More will be explained and clarified in the next chapter. Also, Dylan will make his first appearance! Yay!**


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